


Vallaslin

by ThedasWitch



Series: Shades of Gold [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Vallaslin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lanyla Lavellan explains the meaning behind the vallaslin she choose. Cullen makes a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vallaslin

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet that got stuck in my head when I was trying to fall asleep.

“What do the markings mean?” Cullen asked one evening, as he and Lanyla were lying in bed. He ran a gentle finger along the arc of her vallaslin over her forehead.

“We choose them, we we come of age,” she replied,  as he continued to trace the golden lines inked into her face. “Once we receive them without making a sound of pain, we’re recognized by the clan as an adult. The design represents one of our gods, one we’ve chosen as a guide, of sorts. You’re declaring to the people the path you intend your life to take, the values you want to embody.”

“What god does yours represent?”

“Sylaise. The hearth-keeper.” Lanyla curled into Cullen’s side, letting him continue his examination of her vallaslin. It tickled, just a bit, but it was soothing. He had such a look of intense concentration, like he was committing every bit of the design to memory, that she didn’t want him to stop.

“Why Sylaise?”

“Because… she means home, and healing, and protection. It meant a lot to me that I was invited to be my Keeper’s first, that I was taught how to help people. Sylaise gave us fire, taught us to weave… her gifts are what bind us together. I felt so alone after my mother died… I guess I wanted to dedicate myself to making a home, for myself and for the people around me. Especially as Keeper, I wanted to… to take care of my people. To make a family for myself to replace what I lost.”

Cullen stopped tracing her vallaslin as she spoke, turning his focus to what she was saying. 

She laughed, a hint of bitterness in the sound. “Fine job of that I've done, right? I'm miles from my clan, and I don't… I don't know now that I'll ever go back.”

He kissed her forehead and held her tightly in his arms. 

“You know that you are not alone now, right?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, determined that his words sink in. “You have people here who care for you, who are grateful for the place you’ve created here.”

Cullen realized that he hadn’t really thought about it before, how she must feel after leaving her clan. How lonely the Inquisition might seem for the Dalish elf thrust into the role of its leader. Even after they started sharing a bed, started talking about more than just troop movements and operations, it had never really come up before. And it should have, he realized. He should have asked long before how she felt about leaving her people behind. Or, at the very least, should have made it clear that he was there to listen to anything she needed to discuss.

“You are what holds us together, Lanyla Lavellan,” he said. “Not the Inquisitor, or the Herald of Andraste, but  _ you. _ ”

Lanyla was quiet for a long moment and refused to meet his eyes. He worried that he’d misspoken or crossed some line. Finally, she looked up at him, gold eyes brimming with some emotion he couldn’t identify.

“Thank you,  _ emma lath _ ,” she said softly. She smiled, the expression a little sad. “I… thank you. Truly.” She nestled a little closer, pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “And it does help, having the people around me that I do. Having you.”

She fell asleep not long after that, limbs twined around her Commander’s and her head tucked under his chin.

Cullen stayed awake a little longer. He listened to Lanyla’s breathing as it slowed and deepened, watched the stars through the open doors to her balcony.

And he made a vow then, in the silence of her chambers. One he took as seriously as the vow he’d made in a cold Chantry a lifetime before. Watching the candlelight play across the gold ink under his lover’s skin, Cullen swore to himself that he would not let her carry her burdens alone. As long as she would have him, he would be at her side.


End file.
